Broken China
by HP-Forever-XX
Summary: Entry for The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Forum, Round 12 (written on behalf of Chaser 2) - There are cracks in Ron and Hermione's relationship, as fragile as the china they so frequently destroy when they argue. But with magic, or in this case love, cracks can always be repaired, leaving something beautiful and flawless in its place.


**Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition - Round 12**

**Team: **Wigtown Wanderers  
**Position: **Chaser 2  
**OTP: **Romione! (Ron and Hermione)  
**Additional Prompts: **_Fine China, A Blessing in Disguise,_ and _How Long Will I Love You, Ellie Goulding_

* * *

**Broken China**

They stared in disgust, looking around the room amongst the destruction they'd caused in the heat of the argument, both feeling the same gut-wrenching devastation as they realised they'd done it again, but this time exceeded all others. An overwhelming shame like no other consumed them, filling them head to toe with dread, and with doubt.

How much longer could they carry on like this? How many times would they have to hang their heads in shame as they took in the aftermath of the chinks in their otherwise flawless relationship? How much longer must this go on before they had to accept the painful truth, that just maybe this love had never sailed through waters of harmony, but only been caught up in the stormy seas of demolition?

Hermione reached out a foot and poked her toe at the remains of the teapot her mother had given them as an engagement present. It rolled away at her touch, gliding along the once smooth surface of the wooden floor, now strewn with the chipped and broken remains of their fine china, to collide with some unidentifiable pottery.

The floor was a sea of smashed china and glass. Plates, mugs, cabinet doors, even windows, now lay shattered around them, covering every inch of the floor which only half an hour ago had been spotless.

Her wand slid from her hand in disgust, but she made no effort to retrieve it. And refusing to look anywhere in Ron's direction, she was unable to observe his reaction, though his mirrored hers. Anger for each other had morphed into anger at themselves. This was not the way love was supposed to work. This was not the way two people, engaged to be married in a couple of months, were supposed to behave. How many times would they have to smash up and then repair the china after every argument before they understood that there may indeed be flaws in their relationship?

She shifted her eyes to look around the room, but only wreckage could be seen. What had become of them that could have led to such destruction? The china that was scattered around them, seemingly completely irreparable to those that were not learned in the art of magic, represented all the weaknesses of their relationship, to Hermione: The fragility, the vulnerability, the representation of destruction.

"I'll do it," Ron's gruff voice announced through the silence, causing Hermione to jump. She had not expected him to speak so soon. She stared at his beautiful face, horrified. He looked as weary as she felt. This argument had been the worst one yet, completely draining them both to exhausted shells of what used to be good people. An ugly gash was scrawled across his forehead. She had not mean to cause him any harm.

This was how they coped. They could never harm each other, because despite what it may seem, they loved each other unconditionally. So instead they were forced to destroy the china, so as to cause the harm and destruction they felt they needed to, without ever harming the other. It was completely barbaric, Hermione thought to herself. Completely messed up...

Their intentions were innocent, but the reality was unsettling.

Without a response he set to work, muttering the well versed spell under his breath. Hermione watched in wonder as the broken pieces resealed themselves in a flurry of flying china, and then settle back onto whatever window sill or cupboard they'd come from. The gentle chinking and clicking of the china fixing itself ceased as the job was complete. The vase that stood on the coffee table appeared faultlessly smooth, as though it had never been broken. Hermione stared at it in pain, finding it distressing that sooner or later it would once again find itself scattered across the room, crushed into a million tiny little pieces.

"No," she said aloud.

This time it was Ron who seemed startled. Normally they would go hours, maybe even days before even talking to each other again. It was the same drill every time: Argue, break, repair, ignore, talk, resolve, kiss. _Repeat_

In a few quick strides she was in front of her fiancé kissing him with as much passion as she could possibly muster. He responded with equal force, as the reasons for their argument faded from memory.

"I'm changing the cycle," Hermione explained fiercely.

Ron looked confused. He was still flustered from the unexpected kiss. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," she explained confidently, "No more."

"No more?"

"I'm tired of these arguments," she said. "I'm tired of fighting with you and wanting to hurt you for the most stupid reasons."

He offered a weak smile. Would they really be able to change their ways? A dark look had crossed his face. "I don't think we love each other as much as we used to," he admitted, but Hermione ignored him, suddenly realising a lot of things. Unnerved by her lack of reaction, Ron went on. "We can't keep breaking the china. Every time we do, we break a little bit of ourselves too. I don't know how much longer our relationship can last before it breaks completely."

Hermione was un-swayed by his confession. "Do you love me?" she asked plainly.

"Of course I do, but –"

"How long will you love me?"

He hesitated for a moment. What was she doing? "As long as you want me to..." Was this a trick question?

She shook her head. "_How long will you love me_?" she asked again. He thought more about it, trying to choose his answer carefully. He realised that she didn't want him to say what he thought she wanted him to say, but actually what he thought himself.

"As long as the stars are above you," he replied. "And longer if I can," he added.

She looked satisfied. "And how long will you want me?"

"As long as you want me too."

She opened her mouth to ask him again, a little annoyed his second answer had had the previous undertones as the first, but he stopped her with a kiss, long and drawn out, taking her breath away.

"In that case," she murmured into his lips, "you're wrong about the china."

He looked down on her with curiosity, his eyes asking the question that his lips didn't need to.

"Our relationship _is_ like the china," she confirmed, realising now that it had all just been a blessing in disguise. "But you're wrong when you say one day it will break for good. Because no matter how severely we damage it, we can always fix it until there are no cracks left."

He looked bemused and leaned down to plant a kiss on her forehead. His lips felt ticklish as they brushed across her soft skin. "That's magic," he said.

"No," she denied happily. "That's love."


End file.
